


Purpose Pie

by ethereousdelirious



Category: Alice in Wonderland (Movies - Burton)
Genre: Extremely Liberal Use of Headcanon, Gratuitous German, Gratuitous Steam Powered Giraffe References, HatTime, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Oneshot, Pre-Slash, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 12:01:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8978896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ethereousdelirious/pseuds/ethereousdelirious
Summary: (Set shortly after the events of Alice Through the Looking Glass); Time is still healing from the theft of the Chronosphere. Tarrant takes it upon himself to look after him until he feels better.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! I never thought I'd write fic for this pairing, let alone this fandom, but here I am. This originally wasn't even intended to be HatTime, but it turned out that way, so I decided to roll with it.  
> If you notice any typos or errors, feel free to point them out. I'd appreciate it.  
> Thanks, and I hope you enjoy!

“Helloooo?” The Hatter high-stepped down the main hallway of Time’s castle, peering around with interest. A few ticking Seconds dashed across doorways or skidded around corners, but the automatonic being Tarrant was looking for remained nowhere to be found.

“Don’t worry!” Tarrant assured the silent castle, “I haven’t come to borrow anything.” He came to a door and stopped. He’d passed a lot of doors before coming to this one, but he stopped here and knocked.

“Absolutely not,” said a muffled voice. “No more visitors. Ever.  _ Jemals. _ ”

“It’s only me,” Tarrant protested, and opened the door.

He found Time in his study. A roaring fire blazed and Time was seated in an armchair near the hearth. “I said ‘no’,” Time said with an irritated roll of his electric blue eyes.

“I said earlier, but perhaps you didn’t hear me from so far down the hall. I don’t want to borrow anything.” Tarrant took a few hesitant steps in. “Really, I-- Well, I wanted to make you tea.”

Time raised an imperious eyebrow. “Tea?”

“Yes!” Encouraged, the Hatter entered the room properly. “You know, to sort of apologize.”

“I don’t drink,” Time dismissed, and sniffed.

“ _ Can’t  _ you?” Tarrant asked, intrigued.

Time just looked at him, and motioned for him to sit down. “Why did you come to apologize? You did nothing to me.”

“Well… Alice is my best friend, and I know she’d  _ want _ to apologize, well, at least, I  _ think _ she would, but she can’t, so I decided to do it instead.” Satisfied with his explanation, Tarrant nodded. “With tea.”

“As much as I  _ appreciate _ the intrusion,” Time said with malice, and seemed poised to go on, but a crackle of blue lightning flashed across his chest and he winced.

“Aren’t you all better?” Tarrant asked, leaning forward. “Since Alice put the Chronosphere back?”

“Yes, well.” Time traced his fingers across his chest and said with no small amount of irony, “Time heals all wounds.” Another bolt of lightning flashed between his fingers and he gasped.

“Have you got lungs?” Tarrant wondered out loud. “Maybe a set of bellows.” Time glared at him, one of his glowing blue irises flickered, and Tarrant abandoned that train of thought for the time being. “I think I’d better make that tea now. Do you have a bed?”   
“Bed?” Time asked. He seemed to be thinking. “Somewhere around here, probably. This castle has rather a lot of rooms, you know. Why?” He stood up and Tarrant followed suit.

“That’s what do you when you’re poorly,” Tarrant explained. “You get in bed, and if you’re lucky,  _ someone _ ,” he tapped his nose, “comes along and looks after you, makes you tea.”

“Look after me?” Time bristled. “It is I who looks after all of you!  _ Immer! _ And I--” A particularly vicious forked tongue of lightning snaked across his chest and the gears on the back of his neck sparked blue. The pain robbed him of his words and he almost lost his footing.

Tarrant caught him. “Bed,” he said simply, and Time didn’t resist.

They walked down the halls together in silence, turning corners and trying doors until they found the right one. With a bit of needling, the Hatter convinced Time to abandon his more grandiose outerwear and tucked him under the covers in an almost mothering fashion.

“There!” Tarrant said happily, surveying his work.

Time glared at him over the top of a royal purple pillow, having turned over onto his stomach so his gears didn’t get caught on the bedding.

Tarrant gave him a smile. “Stay put now. I’m going to make tea.”

When Time only continued to glare, Tarrant waved him a cheerful goodbye and left the room.

 

Time awoke to a sharp pain in the back of his neck and head. “ _ Verdammt _ ,” he muttered, gingerly examining the area with his right hand. Just as he’d thought, his bun had come loose while he was asleep and his hair had become tangled in the gears at the back of his neck.

And the Hatter was nowhere to be found, leaving Time alone and feeling worse than ever.

“You awake, sleepyhead?” Tarrant asked, appearing in the doorway with a cup of tea on a saucer in his hands as though Time’s thoughts had summoned him.

Pain momentarily forgotten, Time sat up. “Where did you get that? I don’t have a kitchen.”

Tarrant shrugged. “I’m quite good at making tea.” He walked over and perched on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

Time’s gears turned and caught painfully on his hair, wrenching back with a sickening grinding sound. “ _ Ach, du Scheiße!”  _ He listed forward, clutching the back of his head.

Tarrant blinked. Seeing Time obviously in pain, he hurried back over to the bed. “What happened?”

Time ignored him, his fingers frantically attempting to free the gears so they could turn freely again. Tarrant crawled up behind him. “Oh, I  _ see! _ Here, let me do it.”

He brushed Time’s hands away and began working long strands of black hair in loops and circles with a practiced, gentle hand.

Time’s posture visibly relaxed, his shoulders dropping somewhat. He sniffled.

“Don't fall asleep now,” The Hatter said in a warning tone. “Then I won’t be able to help you.”

“I won't.”

“I'm only joking, you know.” Tarrant pulled his hands away with a flourish. “There. Feel better?”

Time parted his hair and pulled it over his shoulders to prevent further gear-related incidents. The back had gotten ratted up, and he worked his fingers through the knots, silent for a moment. Then, quietly, “Yes. Thank you.”

“Good!” Tarrant scooted off the bed. “Now, drink your tea before it gets cold.” He held out the cup, which Time accepted. As an immortal being, he didn't really need to bother eating or drinking. In fact, he often preferred not to. But it was a kind gesture from a kind person, so he took a sip.

“Do you like it?” Tarrant asked, leaning forward.

Time hummed noncommittally. An unfamiliar feeling began to flood his chest, so he put his head down and began to search through the covers, looking for the band that he used to tie up his hair. Tarrant joined in.

“What are we doing?” he asked after a minute or two.

Time heaved a world-weary sigh and rolled his eyes. “I need to tie up my hair so it doesn’t get caught again.”

“Allow me, old boy!” The Hatter produced two brightly colored ribbons from somewhere about his person and entwined his fingers in Time’s hair before he could protest.

“Mind the gears,” Time mumbled. “They’re sensitive.”

Tarrant, intent on his task, said nothing, only continued to work, combing out Time’s hair with his fingers and gently working through the knots.

Between the warmth of the tea and the soothing, repetitive motions of Tarrant’s fingers, Time found it harder and harder to keep his eyes open. He was practically asleep again when Tarrant announced “done!” and moved away to examine his handiwork: two Dutch braids that hung well clear of the machinery on the back of Time’s neck.

Time allowed himself to slide back down so he was lying on his side, his head coming to rest in Tarrant’s lap. “ _ Schönen Dank _ ,” he murmured.

“Going back to sleep so soon?” Tarrant clicked his tongue. “Well. I suppose you  _ are _ sick.” He looked down at Time, who had closed his eyes. “Look at you, you’ve trapped me here.” It was, Tarrant thought, really a rather pleasant problem to have. The opposite of a problem, really. An unproblem. He leaned back against the headboard and closed his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Sacha Baron Cohen's German accent sounds like the Terminator ate Pavel Chekov and I'm not even mad about it.  
> Here are some translations for ya:  
> Jemals - Ever  
> Immer - Always  
> Verdammt- Damn (in this context, anyway; it can also mean "damned")  
> Ach, du Scheisse - Shit (in this context. I meant for the exclamation to sound a bit old-timey)  
> Schoenen Dank - Thank you (once again, I was shooting for a more old-fashioned/formal sound)  
> German is not my native language, so feel free to suggest edits as you see fit.  
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
